Changes
by The Angel of London
Summary: HP Potions Competition by Black Boxed. (01) An ex-Hogwarts student reflects on how Neville has changed. - [#14] (02) An ex-Hogwarts student finds Neville visiting someone. - [#41]
1. Changes

_**#14. Blemish Blintzer: **__Write about a physical transformation from ugly duckling to beautiful/handsome._

The first time I saw him in over perhaps two or three years, I didn't recognize him at all.

Just by watching him you could tell, somehow, that he was important. You didn't need to know who he was.

His walk was confident, self-assured. He had a purpose and he wasn't just idly wandering the world looking for something to do.

He was tall, easily the tallest of his friends – you always saw them together; an unlikely group of six – and he wasn't as chubby, or _round _as in his younger teenage years.

His hair was shorter and not as flat and smooth as before, but it was still a great deal tidier than his friend, Harry Potter's, hair.

It was actually because of Harry that I realised who he was. It was only those two, together, and they were sitting a couple of tables away from me just outside Fortescue's. They didn't talk too loudly, but I had very good hearing.

"... Neville? They should be here by now..."

I didn't pay much attention to that - slightly worried – comment; as I was too busy freaking out. Not that I'd ever admit it to anyone. _This _was _Neville Longbottom_.

Naturally, it was so surreal and, frankly, impossible, that I denied it. Because it couldn't be him.

The Neville I knew – somewhat – was short and chubby and shy and very quiet. He wasn't at all confident unless he was in the greenhouses, in Herbology, and he certainly didn't look as amazing as _this person _sitting with Harry did.

I looked down at my ice cream, sighing when I saw it had mostly melted. It was mostly liquid, and not very appetizing. But I didn't want to leave yet. I had to make sure this was either true or false, so, as an excuse, I bought another ice cream – I mean, I might as well do something other than just sit there.

As I walked back towards the table I'd claimed as mine, I almost collided into a group of people. "Sorry, sorry!" I heard from another girl, and I saw five people just standing there. "It's all right, I think!" The girl in the front, with brown hair and brown eyes told me as she checked no ice cream fell.

"Yeah, it's okay. No biggie..." In an almost trancelike state I returned towards my table and set my ice cream on it. "Shit, my hand!" Some ice cream had fallen on my hand and melted quickly in this hot weather, and it was sliding down my palm. I could feel the stickiness already.

As I cleaned it up the muggle way – a while later I could remember I had a wand – I caught sight of the very same people joining Harry and 'Neville' at the table. It was then I realised who they were.

The red-head next to Harry was Ginny Weasley; obviously smitten with the man but he was oblivious to it. Next to Neville was Luna Lovegood; her slightly vacant expression was haunting and slightly childlike. To her side, sitting between her and another platinum blonde was Ron Weasley; he seemed more mellow and calm and mature as I realised he was also next to Draco Malfoy.

Draco was smiling at whatever Neville was saying, his hand – to my surprise – holding the brunette, Hermione Granger's, hand, of all people. She was smiling just as wide as him, and, although their sadness was still there, they both seemed almost at peace. No one treated Draco badly, not even Ron or Ginny [but Ginny seemed mostly preoccupied with talking to Harry and keeping his attention on her].

And in that moment, I freely admitted it really was Neville. It did seem implausible before, but I could see the similarities in facial expressions and features, and his voice was similar although clearly deeper. Neville seemed to be the leader in a way. He didn't exactly tell them what to do, but, by how the other six acted, it was clear he had a natural leadership quality to him that had emerged during the war.

If the war did anything good, it brought out the best in Neville.

**Sort of an **_**outsider's **_**1****st**** person POV.**

**It could be anyone from Hogwarts who'd been a year older or the same year, but had dropped out before the school year of 1996-97.**

_**Words: **__696_

_**Posted: **__11__th__ April 2013_


	2. Curiosity

_**#41. Essence of Insanity; **__Write about a mental hospital or anyone who has gone insane._

I worked part time in St. Mungo's – I was more of a volunteer than anything else. I fetched the potions or the scans and I did the menial jobs that were too petty for the actual Healers to do and that the nurses passed on to me.

I didn't mind too much though, as I could've been the witch who spends every five minutes running from ward to ward to clean up. Being the cleaning witch in a hospital doesn't seem very fun.

No, I had a better job. I learnt a lot about the different potions used to help treat different things as some Healers were all too happy to explain to me. I was confident I knew as much [perhaps more than] the nurses did - I had only applied for the knowledge and experience one can only get by actually working in a hospital.

It was a mild summer's day – a normal one, in my opinion – that I saw a familiar figure enter the hospital. I was doing the odd job here and there, and it was only when the receptionist, Mallory, greeted him with a 'Mr Longbottom' that I really paid attention to him.

Naturally, I followed him. I ignored the fact that it was an invasion of privacy of sorts and simply walked a fair distance behind him, and up the stairs, until we reached the fourth floor – _Spell Damage_. I didn't understand why he was there, but I supposed a close friend was here. A grim thought, but not very accurate. The truth was more painful, I realised, as he entered the room labelled number three.

From the doorway, I watched as he approached two beds near the middle of the room. I could hear mutterings, coming not only from him but the odd words from _whoever _was in the bed.

I don't know how long I was standing there, but I soon realised my impromptu break was over and I had to get back to work. I ignored my rising curiosity, reasoning that finding out immediately wasn't worth this 'job'. But, even then, I caught myself looking at the time countless times in the hours leading up to my lunch break.

"Have a good day, Mr Longbottom. We'll see you next fortnight." The receptionist, this time Mallory's cousin, Daisy, said to Neville as he passed by. Judging by the lack of reaction she gave at his somewhat rude and curt nod at her, it was normal.

"Was that..?"

"Neville Longbottom?" She finished in a whisper. "Yes, he comes here every two weeks."

"And would you know why?" I asked, hoping she'd have the answers. But I was disappointed as she shook her head in a negative. So, as soon as the clock struck 2 o'clock, I all but dropped what I was doing and half ran to the fourthfloor, to number three.

"Hello," I ventured, instinctively knowing I had to talk quietly. I wandered over to where Neville had gone, and was confronted with two adults who he was almost the spitting image of, in a roundabout way. It was obvious by their resemblance that they were his parents, although it was equally obvious he had more of his mother's features than he did his father's.

"Mr Longbottom? Mrs Longbottom?" I stepped closer, and they stayed in their positions. I could see they were breathing, but, other than that, it was as if they were in a coma. "Hello?"

The female's, Neville's mother, eyes shot open and found me immediately. The suddenness of it all startled me and I jumped back. Before I could get any closer again, a low beeping started up and, within seconds, a nurse – one of the few amicable ones – entered the room.

"Oh! What are you doing here? No, no, out!" She hustled me out of the ward.

"What happened to them?"

She stopped and looked over at them sadly. "They were tortured into insanity by the Lestranges... It was near the end of _You-Know-Who_'s first reign. A pity... Their son still visits them frequently, after all this time." She sighed but still removed me from the room. "I trust you'll keep this quiet."

I nodded numbly, still shocked at their fate. I turned and warned my boss I was leaving early – with all the extra hours I'd put in before, skipping out a few hours soon was acceptable.

Neville was a strong man. I couldn't see my parents so much knowing what had happened to them; knowing I knew who they were, but they didn't. That day, I appreciated him a lot more.

**Written for **_HP Potions Competition_** by **_Black Boxed. _

**Still the same person from the other entry, but is technically a separate entry that is related to the first.**

**I think I ended it on a weird note, but there's nothing else I could've put. Please review! :] **

_**Words: **__767_

_**Posted: **__11__th__ April 2013_


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